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Everlasting

Pairing: Vampire!Chan x Human Fem!Reader, Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chris loved one woman his entire existence. Cursed with immortality, he looks for a will to go on. After 400 years, he’s finally found a reason: the love of his life was reborn, but she’s soon to be married.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI with adult content. Character deaths, blood feeding, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), accidental voyeurism, masturbation, dubious consent(sex in a dream), nipple play, use of pet names, and a god damn insane amount of acknowledgment to Chris’ stupid plush lips because I have no self control.

Word Count: 18,900 and some change

Author’s Note: This is a commission for the lovely @brittahontas! Thank you for giving me a beautiful prompt. I’ve been in love with Dracula for so long, and we needed a fic where he gets the girl. I am forever grateful for your support. It helps more than you know. If you guys are curious how to get a commission of your own, check out this post. Otherwise, please enjoy!

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A sheet of grey clouds engulfs the sky in London. No sun peeks through, and the expectation of rain is a certainty. Chris doesn’t worry as his carriage continues down the cobblestone path. From behind him, a clock bell rings out, marking the hour of noon as the carriage crosses the river. He hates being out during the day, but certain affairs needed to be settled. The sooner, the better.

Chris looks down at the envelope in his hand. He is on his way to meet with Hyunjin Hwang. A newer solicitor at Harrison & Associates. The man is young but promising, willing to do the legwork in securing a property, or so the owner promises. Chris has only one concern; he asked for secrecy. Less interaction is better. The company would reap substantial rewards if Hyunjin bought the properties swiftly and privately.

Hyunjin’s penmanship is eloquent. It’s refreshing to see it in the letter sent in response to the property inquiry. Even on the appointment card there is delicate lettering. Any time Chris rejoins society after several decades of slumbering, he worries about the changes. Society forces him to adapt and discover what advancements have occurred. At least humans are consistent with being stupid creatures, still preoccupied with fighting for imaginary power as if it matters.

The surrounding city changed quite a bit since his last visit. To be expected after two hundred years. Growth appears to be exponential. There are new buildings, though the main roads remain the same, just not as wide. His carriage stops in front of what used to be a building owned by a shoemaker; it now is his destination for his meeting today.

Chris steps out with grace, not bothering to take in the bustling city life around him. Instead, he focuses on the large glass window that reveals the young man he suspects to be Hyunjin in the otherwise empty office. He’s a handsome man with his brown eyes and plush lips. Women must adore him. Especially now, with a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose while he’s tying up long raven locks away from his face.

The door chimes above Chris as he steps into the business. Immediately the human looks up from his stack of papers, forcing a smile onto his face. His voice is soft and polite as he stands. “Ah, you must be Lord Bahng. It’s a pleasure to meet you finally. I apologize for making you come all this way.”

“That’s quite alright,” he answered, removing his gloves before tucking them into his jacket. “How is Mr. Anderson?”

“Unwell. Doctors are confident, though.” Hyunjin shifts the weight on his feet. There is a spike in his heart rate, even though he masks his unease well. “Um, how are the accommodations? I know it’s not the best for a prince, but are you adjusting well?”

Chris doesn’t miss the redirection from Hyunjin. Anderson is nearing death. Will this young solicitor be inheriting the company then? That is a lot of pressure for someone without years in the industry; perhaps that’s why he was so eager to follow the absurd demands. “The staff is exceptional.”

“Good. Very good. Uh…” Hyunjin’s words trail off as he sorts through the folders on his desk until he finds the one he needs. “Your shipments arrived. Unfortunately, the ship never made it to the pier. The storm crashed the Demeter onto the coast several miles north. I can assure you that only one crate sustained damage. I believe it was dirt; they salvaged what they could.”

Chris briefly sucks on one of his fangs, a habit of his when annoyed. It’s perfectly fine. Was it taken to the abbey?”

“Yes, sir. Right in the heart of London.” Hyunjin takes out a map from the stack of files and lays it out on the surface of his desk. “After today, I will have the deeds for the last two properties, and we can begin transport if you require it.”

“How far are the last two properties from here?”

“Six miles.” Hyunjin answers before pointing at two different locations. Chris leans forward to examine the distance. “I have to say, this is a great way to have connections across the country.”

Hyunjin isn’t wrong. This is what Chris needs. He can cover more ground this way and expand outwards. His previous purchases were in France to help establish roots, but here he can expand his footing west. He’s unsure what his next move will be. Maybe he will mingle with the nightlife.

The young man speaks up again. “Forgive me for being curious, but what brings you here? Has the city summoned you?”

“A change of scenery, I guess you could say.”

“How is Romania?” Hyunjin asks, eyes full of genuine curiosity. “I’ve never been out of the country.”

“The winters can be very unforgiving,” Chris answers honestly. His mind flickers over a dark memory in particular, but he shakes it off to keep his composure. “Summer makes up for it.”

More business talk occurs. There is paperwork to be addressed. Hyunjin signs over deeds to the four properties he had already bought. Keys are to be given with proper labeling. Hyunjin humbly accepts the large amount of money from Chris. The professionalism and trust in this small company appeared to be the right call.

As Hyunjin moves around the cramped office, Chris reaches for a sketchpad on the corner of the desk he’d been eyeing for the last half an hour. There is an illustration of a skyline of buildings in brown ink. It’s then that Chris realizes it’s not ink that was the medium used; rather, it was coffee. The paper still has a lingering scent from the brewed beans. Chris admires the talent before speaking about it. “Did you paint this yourself?”

“Yes, sir.” Hyunjin slinks back into his chair, almost embarrassed that he left the artwork on display. “It’s just a silly hobby of mine.”

“You’re quite talented. Your art belongs on walls.”

There’s a bitterness in Hyunjin’s tone as he replies. “Unfortunately, my art doesn’t generate enough income to cover my expenses.”

Chris gives a knowing nod. He’s met plenty of starving artists throughout the years. Hyunjin doesn’t stop him from flipping through the pages of artwork; instead, he continues to fill out more paperwork. There is a range of pieces. Flowers at every stage of life, distinct memories of the places Hyunjin traveled to, and then there are a few faceless couples in various embraces. The man is clearly a romantic.

Chris nearly drops the pad when flipping over the next page. Disbelief floods his system. It can not be. There is no way that what he sees is real. It must be a trick. He blinks a few times to assure himself that what is on this page isn’t a delusion of a grieving man.

There, taking up a full page, is a sketch of you.

He runs his fingers over the illustration, tracing the hair that frames your face. The eye shape is the same. Your lips are just as full as he remembers. The sketch includes the brow bone, cheekbones, and even the scar on your chin. It’s in fact you, his bride. This man’s sketchpad captured his eternal love.

Your remains are dust in a grave back in Romania. He left you in the gardens you adored so much. This is not an imagined piece, Chris tells himself. Most of Hyunjin’s drawings don’t have distinct features. This is a vivid sketch he drew of you. That means after four hundred years, you have returned to this plane of existence.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Hyunjin asks, pulling Chris out of his haze of thoughts. “It’s my fiancée. We’re planning to get married in the spring.”

It’s confirmed then. You have returned. Now the vampire understands why he is here. You were calling out to him, asking him to find you. That is why he is in London now. It all makes sense. He just has to find you.

“Look at me,” Chris commands suddenly. Hyunjin glances up from where he is signing his name to make eye contact. There is a pull on the vampire’s powers as he speaks. “I am taking this piece. You will not miss it. Do you understand?”

The human nods in response. “Of course. I’d be delighted if you did.”

Chris gently tears the drawing out of the notepad before folding it in half to fit inside his coat pocket. His tone stays calm and collected despite the way there is a fire under his skin lighting up all his nerves. He needs to be alone with this discovery. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Hwang. I must take my leave now. You will contact me when you have the other deeds for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Hyunjin nods once more, still completely compliant. “I’ll send word right away.”

The sun remains tucked behind the buildings of London by the time Chris steps back out into the city. He couldn’t care about the list of properties now in his name. Nor the ring of keys jingling in his pants pocket. He should care; each is an anchor for him to travel through. When he needs to slumber or recover his power, he will have locations spread across the country.

This also means the vampires he creates will have someone safe to go to. Unlike him, his creations cannot face the sun. The newborns are too young, unable to have the strength to embrace daylight without perishing. If he had one newborn at each of the six properties, it wouldn’t take long to find you and where you reside. He even has a starting point in knowing where Hyunjin works.

How fortunate he is to be given this fate.

Hyunjin’s portrait of you is heavy in his coat pocket. Ever so carefully he pulls the thin paper out to examine again now that he is alone. His eyes are not tricking him. It really is you on this paper, pretty charcoal smile and all.

A rush of emotions hit Chris hard enough to almost buckle his knees. He remembers the day he lost you vividly. A nightmare he never escapes. He never should have left you in the castle. How foolish he was not to expect some sort of retaliation from the enemy. Even with his most trusted knights in charge of your evacuation, it wasn’t enough to keep you safe.

The war seems so childish now. He was summoned to fight the opposers. Ottoman envoys threatened his reign again, trying to remove him from power. He wouldn’t give in easily. Not after the death of his father and brother. He avenged their deaths and would continue to squash the enemy like bugs. He was such a loyal servant to God until then.

All he asked was for your safety.

If he were going to fight in God’s name and taint his soul with their deaths, then at least his mighty self could protect you. Then God abandoned him.

No, after years of devotion, God betrayed him. Chris hauled himself onto the first horse he could reach when hearing word about your evacuation. The beast tried its best to sprint despite the heavy war armor not only on its body but on him as well. No whines or protests came out when he commanded the animal to cut through the woods to intercept your route. He could come from a different angle and take the enemy by surprise if the soldiers followed you. All he had to do was make it to you. Then he could defend you. The scenery was a blur; sunlight flickered through the leaves like a strobing light. Hooves of the horse barely connected with the ground before pushing off to drive further forward. Chris was certain he could make it. He had to; there was no other option.

By the time he made it to the forest edge, he saw your horse go down. The mighty beast you raised yourself was caught in a bear trap in the snow. Poor thing landed in a heap, depositing you in the snow. Its cry was a warning to the three soldiers not too far behind you. Instead of risking their beasts, they were on their feet, swords out and stabbing the snow to disarm the hidden bear traps. This strip of land was meant for a battle the last time the army rose up. Chris never ordered the traps to be removed. He wanted it to be a safety measure if the opposing side decided to try to sneak around the castle again now that the river had frozen over.

Currently, it is a death trap for everyone in the field.

“Christopher!” You screamed out, your voice distraught and breathless not only from exhaustion but also from fear.

“Stay by Berry!” he bellowed out in response. “I will come to you!”

Chris commanded his horse forward. A scapegoat, one to no doubt share the same fate as your horse. An unfortunate causality if it came to it. He didn’t care; all that mattered was getting to you. The soldiers moved quicker in response, knowing their chance to assassinate you was slipping out of their fingers.

By some miracle the horse under him made it nearly to you. Chris let gravity take him to the ground when he was sent flying from the saddle. The armor on his body would protect him; he had no fear of the traps. He simply rolled until he found his footing. He drew his sword next and charged forward.

Steel collided with steel as Chris reached one soldier. Despite how tired he was, the new wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him moving. He had years of combat under his belt. Hell, this was the second war he fought in. Many of the soldiers lack the training to tackle the challenge he is. Enemies spoke of him as a dragon, powerful in his destruction and swift too.

It was not his life on the line; it was yours. Chris pushed through the fatigue to kill the first soldier. He barely had time to breathe before another was on him. His heartbeat pounded in his ribcage and in his ears. It was deafening to the point that he couldn’t even hear his own screams.

Though he still wasn’t fast enough. He wasn’t strong enough. By the time he killed the second soldier, the final one was making his way to you. Chris couldn’t cross the snow any faster. You didn’t even scream. You fought with all of your being, the same when you practiced with Chris for months. Your only line of defense was the blade in your hand, but it wasn’t sufficient.

Time froze when Chris saw the blade drive into your stomach. The world narrowed to a single point of your frame folding toward the snow, your breath catching in shock. He reached you just as the soldier raised his weapon again. Chris didn’t think; he moved. He swung his sword with all of his might, driving his own sword across the man’s neck and taking his head clean off. He didn’t care for the spasming body, too busy kicking it aside to catch as you knelt. Blood was seeping out of your wound, turning your beautiful gown a dark shade of red.

“No!” The word tore out of him, raw and shaking. One hand pulled you close; the other pressed against your wound. Chris knew it was fruitless; the snow was staining red under you. Even if he could get you back to the castle, it would be too late. He continued to plead. “Stay with me. Please.”

“My king...” Your voice came out weak. You struggled to keep your eyes open. “I will find you again.”

Chris pressed his forehead against yours. “Do speak such words to me. You will survive. You must! I can’t live without you.”

Through his teary eyes, he could see the faintest of your smiles. “Promise me… you will wait for my return.”

He opened his mouth to argue, to beg, or to deny the truth, yet your body relaxed in his arms before he could say anything. Your eyes slipped shut, and you were gone. Snuffed out like a candle. The warmth was already beginning to fade.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, not you. Not you.”

Chris couldn’t move. God wouldn’t do this to his most loyal servant. Still, he prayed to the Almighty One. One hour turned into several until his soldiers discovered him frozen in place. It would take three of his strongest to separate him from your body. And even then, he reached for you as if he still believed he could bring you back.

That was the day he renounced God. He had dedicated years to this being; he killed thousands in his name, and he swore unwavering loyalty. No more; no longer would he do what God asked. God took the only thing he prayed to be safe during the war. The only thing in this world he cared about.

If God didn’t listen to him, why would he continue to serve?

Rage fueled Chris. There was no exhaustion, no hunger, no thirst. The celebration of the victory didn’t reach his ears. He stormed through his recovering city on foot, still wearing his battle armor stained with blood. He marched right up the church’s steps, through the doors, until he found the one person who could answer his burning questions. The priest claimed to be a messenger for God, and then Chris would test that.

“My wife is dead.” Chris huffed out, still fighting to be civil. “Is he not listening to our prayers today?”

“My king.” A hand found his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. “God has his reasons. It’s not our place to question his plan.”

The calm, collected tone in response may as well be hot tar thrown onto Chris’ body. He reached for the holy man, grabbing fistfuls of his pristine white robes and hoisting him up onto his tiptoes. He could feel the panicked breath against his face. The words leaving him were venom. “Bring her back to me.”

“I cannot, my king!” The same face of fear as the soldiers he killed earlier that day looked back at him. Even this man pleads the same. “He will take good care of her.”

“But what about me?” Chris spat out. “Have I not done everything he’s asked?”

More babbling came out, filled with excuses. Chris couldn’t accept this as his fate. He wouldn’t. His self-control snapped like a fragile twig. Using all of his anger for strength, he shoved the holy man backwards, where the mess of limbs collided with the table of lit candles. Terrified screams broke out as the fabric caught fire.

Panicked gasps filled the room from the other priests and the soldiers that followed Chris here. He moves without deliberation, reaching for his sword to unsheathe. Chris drives the blade down through the man’s sternum, trapping the body in place as it continues to burn. This man won’t escape this fate, just like you were forced to endure yours.

It’s then when he stares up at the statue of Christ on the wall. Despite the growing flames, Chris couldn’t feel the heat. Not even against the steel of his armor. He kept eye contact with the brown eyes, speaking bitterly. “Are you listening now? I am no longer your servant. Until you return my wife, my soul no longer belongs to you. I will wait until you make this right.”

Chris changed that day. Not just from the grief. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t die. God turned his back on him, refusing to let him have that peace to be with you. Even falling from the castle tower, his limbs would take their time knitting themselves back together. He didn’t age and didn’t need food or water.

He simply existed.

Though as the years crept on, his human form shifted into a monster. Chris developed a craving for blood. His teeth grew into sharp fangs to ease the process, and he learned he would gain sustenance from the sinful act. Perhaps it was Lucifer himself answering his pleas. The only other person who understood God’s betrayal.

Fine, he would become a monster. As long as it kept him on this earth. Now here he stands, in London, the very city where you have returned to this mortal realm.

A woman’s bright laughter rings out ahead of Chris, drawing his attention. His hand tightens around the folded sketch of your face, and he slips it back into his coat before anyone can glimpse it. He forces himself to focus on the approaching pair.

The first woman is blonde, draped in an elegant red dress that speaks of wealth and a certain carefree confidence. She’s amused by something her companion has said; her smile is wide and unrestrained. Chris barely registers her because moving beside her, moving with a grace he remembers too well, is you?

Fate is either playing a cruel game, or his deemed punishment is over.

You are breathtaking in an emerald gown, walking straight toward him, unaware, unguarded. He has imagined this moment for lifetimes, rehearsing it in dreams and nightmares alike, yet now that you are here, he is utterly unprepared.

He purposely moves too close, deliberately in your path, and you collide with him. You gasp softly, immediately turning toward him with an apology spilling out of you. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

The sound of your voice nearly turns his limbs into warm wax.

“No, this is my fault, actually.” Chris manages to answer through disbelief at hearing your voice after all this time. He can’t think clearly. “It’s… lovely to see you again.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Have we met before?”

“In a dream, perhaps. I have a strange feeling we’ve known each other for a long time.”

You don’t look amused by his charm. If anything, you are wary. Sarcasm is heavy in your tone. “Well, aren’t you romantic?”

Inwardly, Chris curses himself. This is not off to a good start. There was no time to prepare. He straightens, trying to gather the remnants of his dignity. After a second, he bowed his head slightly. “Pardon me, I seem to have lost my mind and my manners. My name is Christopher Bahng, second prince of Wallachia.”

Chris reaches for your gloved hand; you don’t stop him, allowing him to bring your hand up for him to kiss. There for a second, he sees recognition on your face. What did you see? A kiss from a previous encounter? Could it be a memory from when he first met you on the day he requested your hand in marriage? It was all arranged without your consent, yet you were still so excited to meet him.

“Well,” you say, gently withdrawing your hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Before you can step away, the blonde woman halts you with a hand on your arm. “A prince, you say? And where is Wallachia?”

“Romainia.”

“My goodness, you are so far away from home.” She answers with a bright smile. “You’re not lost, are you?”

“No, not at all. I’m purchasing a few properties here in London.”

Her eyes lit up. Chris is used to this response when women fall under his charm. “Then you should join us for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, it's a casual event. Besides, how can you learn more about London if you don’t experience it?” The woman looks over to you, giving you a playful nudge. It’s enough to knock the uneasy expression off your face. You offer her a weak smile, and the woman turns back to him, pleased to have your agreement. “And it’s not every day you get to dine with a real prince.”

This is almost too easy, Chris thinks to himself. Still, he plays his role perfectly with his reply. “I would be honored to join such fine company, then, Miss?”

“Lucy Westenra,” the blonde replies, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She introduces you as well, giving a modern name Chris knows he will have to force himself to remember instead of the one he whispered to you centuries ago. She gestures toward a restaurant at the corner. “We’re dining at seven. Just tell the staff you’re with the Holmwood party.”

“I will be there.” Chris offers a charming smile before turning his attention to you. His voice softens. “I look forward to dining with you and Miss Westenra tonight.”

With that, the two of you leave him on the sidewalk. You turn to give him one last look. He would give anything to know what is coursing through that mind of yours. How much do you remember, if at all? He knows he saw recognition on your face. That was real. He reassures himself that he will learn more tonight. You have returned to him, and now he can work on bringing you back into his arms.

Chris arrives at the restaurant a quarter past seven. The goal was not to appear too eager on his arrival. He wanted the party to be seated before he joined the small group to dine. A shy hostess led him through the warm, lamplit dining room to the table where he found four humans sitting.

Lucy brightened the moment she saw him. “Lord Bahng! You found us.”

He bows slightly. “Miss Westenra, how could I refuse such a charming invitation?”

Next to Lucy, at the head of the table, appears to be Mr. Holmwood. Chris learns a second later through a handshake that his name is Arthur and is Lucy’s current partner. The human has a relaxed heart rate and a brawny arm. He appears unbothered by Lucy’s sudden new guest. Perhaps he is used to her bringing in new people.

Chris turns his attention to you. Gone is the emerald dress, now replaced with a dark blue evening gown. You sit straight and proper with Hyunjin beside you. Chris expected some confusion from you both, but Hyunjin appears to be losing color in his face. He’s not one for mixing business and pleasure, especially when such a hefty bonus is on the line.

From where Chris stands, he offers a nod to the young solicitor. “It’s good to see you again so soon, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin blinks, startled by being spoken to. He half-rises from his chair before sinking back down. “Lord Bahng, it’s an honor to see you again. What a small world London appears to be.”

“Indeed.” Chris answers, finally taking the empty seat beside Lucy and, more importantly, directly across from you. “Who would have thought I would meet some of your friends today as well?”

Lucy wasted no time conversing. “I was just telling Arthur and Hyunjin how we ran into you today. Then I hear you are working with Hyunjin. I must say, you found the perfect man for the job.”

“He’s taking care of my affairs wonderfully.”

The words appear to be enough for Hyunjin to relax. Conversations go on as food is ordered. Chris tries to keep his attention on who is speaking to not draw focus on how long he stares at you. He is still in denial that you are here in front of him again. It wasn’t a dream or a vision. You are human, smiling and giggling with your friends.

Though hearing about your engagement to Hyunjin troubles him. You are not meant for this boring, average human. One who is out of his depth with the business that is falling into his lap. You don’t belong in this cramped, dreadfully noisy city. You belong back home, with him, out tending your gardens. He knows you have always been happiest surrounded by nature.

Chris is in a tough situation. He could uproot you from this life by force. It would be painful for you, but the isolation would drive you to him. On the other hand, he could compel you into submission.

Neither of those options would sit well with him. Though he considers a third path. You fell in love with him once; surely he could do it again. The more he ponders the idea, the more he fancies it. Yes, this sounds the most rewarding for both of you.

While Chris was deep in his thoughts, the surrounding conversation shifted to a darker subject. The humans he used for sustenance are being found. Each of the victims was drained of their blood, and the only wounds appear to be two marks on their necks. At first, the group suspects an animal, though that theory is shot down rather quickly with the eccentric history of London.

Arthur shakes his head as he speaks. “The papers are calling it the work of a madman. A serial killer stalking the streets.”

“How tragic,” Chris says, folding his hands in his lap. His expression is unreadable. “London is a great city. However, even the greatest of cities have their darker corners.”

Lucy shivers at the comment. “It’s frightening to think someone could be out there choosing people at random.”

“Monsters often walk unnoticed,” Chris adds softly. “It is their nature.”

Hyunjin frowns at that, but before he could speak, Arthur clears his throat. He takes Lucy’s hand with a smile. “Well, enough grim topics. We were here to speak about good news.”

Lucy’s cheeks flushed pink as her excitement grew. She can’t stop the words spilling out of her. “We’re engaged!”

An excited noise leaves you, followed by you clapping your hands in delight. The announcement brings you genuine joy. Your smile is wide and just as sunny as Chris remembers. The light it brings even causes Hyunjin to gaze at you with adoration.

A wave of bitterness taints the vampire’s mood. He doesn’t let it show when he speaks. “My sincerest congratulations. A union of hearts is a rare and precious thing.”

“We’re having a celebration in Whitby this weekend with Arthur’s family,” Lucy said. “You must come.”

If you are here for such an intimate announcement, then you are a close friend to Lucy. Plus, it appears she drags you along regardless of your wishes. If that’s true, you will be at Whitby to celebrate with her. Then the party would give him another opportunity to see you.

Chris gave a low, thoughtful hum. “As fate would have it, I shall be in Whitby around that time. It would be discourteous to decline such hospitality.”

Arthur reaches for his glass of wine. “Thank you for appeasing my fiancée. She can be rather forward with her demands.”

Lucy’s happiness turns to a deep scowl before she smacks Arthur on the arm. “How dare you slander me like this?”

“Is it slander if it’s true?” You pipe up with a giggle.

From there, the conversation flows naturally. Chris speaks with practiced charm, weaving stories of Transylvanian landscapes, ancient customs, and curious superstitions. Lucy hung on every word like a curious child desperate for adventure. You and Hyunjin listened with polite fascination. Even Arthur, who appeared skeptical of anything foreign or unusual, seemed drawn in.

Though the longer the meal goes on, Chris realizes your struggle with the celebratory wine. Your face contorts in disgust with every small sip. The vampire fights to keep his chuckle to himself. Even in your new life, you don’t enjoy Pinot Noir.

The next chance Chris gets, he stops the waiter to order a bottle for the table. Once it’s delivered, he makes you an offer. “Would you like to try this one?”

You freeze momentarily, surprised at Chris speaking directly to you. “Uh, this is fine. I’m just not accustomed to red wine.”

“Try this one then.” He insists, pushing a glass of the straw-colored wine towards you. “It will pair better with your dish.”

“What is it?”

“It roughly translates to ‘royal maiden’ in English,” Chris answers you. “The grapes in this wine grow in Transylvania and Moldavia in particular. It won’t be as harsh.”

A blush creeps onto your face as the group focuses attention on you. You take a cautious sip, and your surprise is hard to hide. Chris was right; you enjoy it. He moves to pour himself a glass to hide the smugness trying to escape him. It’s not much interaction with you, yet it’s enough to have him on cloud nine.

When the bill arrived later, Chris intercepted it with a graceful flick of his hand. “Please allow me. It is a joy to share a meal with new friends.”

Arthur protests, though weakly, too lost in the bottom of his wine glass. Hyunjin didn’t protest at all. Perhaps still too busy trying to understand how this mysterious man he was working with slipped so seamlessly into his circle. However, Lucy squeezes Chris’ arm with affection. “You are too kind to some strangers who bullied you to join us. I’m glad my intuition was right about you.”

Chris offers a courteous smile. “The pleasure, Miss Westenra, is entirely mine.”

The alcohol in her system eats up his response. Poor Arthur might have to carry her out. Though she seems coherent enough with her next words. “I’ll cover your travel costs to and from Whitby. No arguments, Lord Bahng. I’ll have Hyunjin arrange it with you the next time you meet.”

Today is a success the more Chris thinks about it. He arrived in London, completely lost, unsure why he was called here again, only to find out you have returned to Earth. Four hundred years he waited, and by chance he inserted himself into your little bubble of life.

Fate continues to work out in Chris’ favor. A letter arrived early in the morning from Lucy. An offer to join her today at a gathering to celebrate the engagement before the trip to Whitby. Nothing too extravagant. Just lunch at her home. Chris couldn’t stop himself from attending. Not now that he’s found a foot in the door with you. He needed to see you again, needed to be near you again. The few days apart ate away at him. He can’t think about anything else.

The first memory that sprang to mind was from a few weeks after your wedding. A huge snowstorm ravaged the castle before winter began. The storm was especially bad; it left powder almost waist-high even in the courtyard. All he wanted was to spend the morning in bed or in front of the enormous fireplace. No responsibilities, just time with his wife. Though he woke to a bed that lacked your warmth.

He pulled on his layers, and with a bit of a search, he found you arguing with a steward over the hounds. Chris couldn’t fight his smile as you debated with your full chest. Something along the lines of letting the hounds have a bit of fun. The steward looked towards his king for support but found none. Of course he would side with you; these hounds were your pride and joy. You trained each of them from the age of a pup to hunt and fight. Now all you wanted was for them to play and live life to the fullest. Overall, you wanted the animals to experience happiness.

Perhaps that’s why Chris loves you so much. These dogs were larger than wolves; he’d seen one take down a war horse on your command. You had no fear, only confidence in their earned loyalty. You would lay your life down for these beasts. So with word from your king and a triumphant smile plastered on your face, you lead the hounds out.

Your giggles filled the otherwise quiet castle. Then a wall of fur, followed by excited yips, barreled past Chris, nearly trampling him. A fate worth a death if it meant he could see the happiness on your face for a lifetime. You were as graceful as a newborn lamb trying to traverse the piles of snow. It didn’t matter that you were a queen in this moment. Chris continued to watch from a window, and in that moment he realized you were the secret to completing his life.

Now as he steps out into the Westenra Gardens, he is drawn to your giggles once more. Clouds drifted slowly across the afternoon sun, softening the glow above him. The daylight was already weakening him, yet he wasn’t worried. Here, all he needed to do was pretend to be an elite socialite. Not much of a role to play when he was an expert at it. His charm came effortlessly, especially among the women.

Chris sipped wine, working his way through the people until he managed to worm his way next to you. Today you are donned in a pretty yellow outfit. One of your fingers brushes along a row of roses. “Are you married, Christopher?”

He answers without hesitation. “Widowed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” He kept his voice even; however, the question tugged at old wounds. The sun, the memories, and your gentle curiosity were testing his composure.

“Was it an ailment?” you asked softly.

“A casualty of war,” he said. “The enemy wished to hurt me because their loss was certain.”

“Was she lovely?”

“She was the most beautiful creature.” His gaze drifted to the horizon, though he saw only the past. “I saw heaven with her. I keep a lock of her hair sealed in here.” He touched the inner pocket of his coat. “It’s always with me.”

Chris notices the admiration in your eyes. All you want is a lover who is devoted. It’s what all romantics want. Though the wine in his glass now tastes like pure vinegar. He cannot allow you to look at him in this way. The fight against his self-restraint is taking all of his energy. He shifts the subject abruptly. “I hear you are going to marry Hyunjin. Tell me about him.”

You sighed. “I worry he loves too much.”

“There’s no such thing.”

You shift the weight on your feet, still playing with the roses. “You think so? He works so hard. He overextends himself. I worry he’ll go mad from the stress.”

“He’s dedicated,” Chris replies. “He wants to give you a fulfilling life.”

“We have a fulfilling life. I want to see him more.”

That comment causes an ache in Chris. You are a human dealing with such a simple emotion. Longing, but to a smaller degree than the vampire in front of you. The very emotion he had felt for centuries. Something he could never allow himself to feel again now that he’s found you. He hates it. You shouldn’t have these emotions. Yes, it’s part of being human; however, your past life suffered. He doesn’t want you to endure any pain in this life. It’s selfish, he knows. There is so much more to life that you should be enjoying and experiencing instead of this negativity.

Now Chris is upset it’s taken this long to find you. He reassures himself, ‘This is all temporary.’ He will take you and give you the gift of immortality. Then you can be together. He will take you anywhere you want to go. It doesn’t have to be home necessarily. It’s just going to be as far away from Hyunjin as it can be.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “You don’t need to hear silly troubles.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, and he meant it more than he wished he did. “I’m enjoying your company. Hopefully, you don’t mind me taking the liberty of seeking you out. This country is lonely when you don’t know it.”

“It’s lonely when you know it.”

Chris hates that answer. Hyunjin might be trying his best to provide a good life for you, but he’s not successful. The sadness in your voice stings worse than a blade carving out his side. His fingers drum against the fragile glass in his hands as his anger bubbles inside of him.

The clouds thickened overhead, dimming the sun further. Chris felt the shift immediately. His strength was returning in a slow, dangerous trickle. He straightened unconsciously. He needed to be careful. Restraint and control, he mentally repeats. As much as he wants to act, there are too many witnesses here.

“Oh, blast.” A surprised gasp from you draws the vampire’s attention. When you reached out to steady a rose, a thorn pricked your finger. From where he stands, he can see a bead of blood forming right on the tip of your finger.

Chris reacts before thinking, moving faster than a man should, far too eager, and producing a handkerchief. He caught your hand, covering the wound before more blood could seep out. However, even just a drop carried the smell to his nose. The scent was a strike to the chest. That one little droplet was luring the beast inside him in.

His grip tightened. He needed to control himself. You were the last person he wanted to harm. Perhaps it was the sun’s doing; it was draining him quicker than he was used to. His nostrils flared despite his will. The hunger surged. An instinctive piece of him, still humiliating, though. He forced his jaw to lock, though his fingers betrayed him again, tightening around your delicate hand.

“Christopher,” you winced. “You’re hurting me.”

Your voice was a lighthouse in a storm, cutting through the haze. Shame flooded him, dousing him in freezing-cold water to shake him from the stupor he was in.

“I’m stopping the blood,” he said too sharply. He hated the edge in his tone. Gentle; be gentle, he reminded himself. He tried to loosen his grip, truly. The instinct to hold you, to keep the blood near, fought him like an ingrained reflex.

She must not fear you. Not her. Never.

You tugged your hand back. “It’s only a scratch. Really.”

Chris released you instantly, stepping back as though distance alone could cage the hunger. He swallowed hard, forcing breath into lungs that did not need it, forcing the monster inside him to heel. He is stronger than this, and he is better than this.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

No, he should be apologizing. He needs to beg for forgiveness for that lapse. Anything; he could say anything to help defuse the situation.

He doesn’t get the chance. Before he could vocalize any type of excuse, Hyunjin’s voice came from across the yard. You turn toward him, relief and affection brightening your face. Chris remains glued to his spot, watching you go to him, seeking that solace away from him.

The glass of wine in his hand shatters a second later, causing the pieces of glass and drink to spill into the roses at his feet. His other hand still held onto the handkerchief, your blood staining the white cloth and still calling out to the monster side of him.

Chris needs to leave. He needs to leave now. The chains holding his restraints are starting to break from the pressure. It takes all of his might to weave through the crowds to make it back to his carriage. He needs a moment alone. Just one moment.

The handkerchief may as well be a brick in his hand. He can still smell your blood thanks to his heightened senses. It’s intoxicating and mouthwatering. An opium haze couldn’t make him this delirious.

The vampire’s strength causes the carriage’s door hinges to screech. The force of the slam damaged a pane in the glass window. A small price to pay, he thinks to himself. He nearly dives into the darkness of the carriage to be free of the sun and finally has that moment of privacy.

His eyes stay trained on the opening, weary of the humans on the property, while he caves to temptation. He brings the bloody fabric to his mouth and sucks to pick up the remnants that he can. Your blood is honey on his tongue. A sweetness that rips an involuntary moan out of him and drives his eyes to roll back.

Shame burns under his skin as he sucks on the fabric, chasing more of the taste of you. He needs more. Fresh on his tongue so he can taste it correctly. It wouldn’t take much; he would never drain you like the humans he uses for sustenance. Just enough to tame the beast in him.

Damn his attraction to you. Even the monster wants you.

Is it even the blood he wants?

No, Chris knows the answer to that. Images of your naked body flood him. He groans at how quickly his cock fills out in his pants. There hasn’t been anyone over the years. No one to touch or love. He couldn’t bring himself to if it wasn’t you.

He works with minimal struggle to free his cock. His hand strokes himself to alleviate the ache. The handkerchief is still in his mouth as he holds onto the remaining taste of you. What a pathetic sight he would be; he wonders if you would scold him. He misses the days he desired you so desperately and you would play with him like a toy. He would obey every command you demanded if it meant he could have you.

Movement from the second floor of the house catches his eye. There, sneaking out onto the balcony, are you and Hyunjin? That damn yellow dress is flattering on you. The swell of your breasts only tempts Chris more. He wants nothing more than to rip it off of you and see you in all your beauty.

Hyunjin appears to think the same. The human kisses you messily, as if he were being rushed. The wine in Chris’ stomach sours at the sight of how enthusiastic you are. Though his hand still moves along his cock. From where he sits, he can see one of Hyunjin’s hands sneaking under your dress between your thighs. Your head falls back against the wall as pleasure takes its course. He shouldn’t be watching, and he definitely shouldn’t be getting off to the view. Yet he physically can’t stop himself. This is a battle he will lose as you come around someone else’s fingers.

This will be his one moment of weakness. No one will know about it. Then he will sit and plan his next move. He can not continue this idle waiting around. Thankfully, the blood you gave him will help. It may have been a few drops, but it’s enough. He can now sense you and track you as you move throughout the country, and most importantly, his powers will affect you. Possibly, if he’s lucky, he can awaken your memories, and that will help him win you over.

As night crept through London, Chris rose with an ache in his chest. His dreams were playing with him. No, his subconscious was teasing him. It must be from the small amount of your blood he consumed. The entire time, his memories of you danced through his vision. From cute, harmless, loving moments to even heated nights in the bedroom. It was a hurricane of emotions he was struggling to navigate.

Now he is on the streets, trying to find a meal to regain his strength. The time spent in the sun to see you made him exceptionally weak. Once he feeds tonight, he can check in on you. He doesn’t need creatures to find you. He can do it himself and then satisfy the craving of seeing you.

Normally, Chris is mindful when he feeds. Humans are easy to hypnotize; it’s child’s play as he lures his victim down an alleyway. A palm of his is spread widely over the human’s mouth to keep quiet while fangs sink into their neck.

Tonight is different.

Tonight he pretends it’s Hyunjin he’s feeding from.

This human fights back. Blunt teeth dig into the meat of his hand in protest. It’s not enough to break the skin or even deter him. Hands flail, nails scrape along the fabric of his jacket, and the body squirms. The human is no match for Chris. A rush of power courses through his body as he bites harder into the thin skin of the neck, straight into the artery. The pressure splatters warm blood against his face and clothes.

The monster inside him could almost purr like a satisfied cat.

A voice comes from the end of the alleyway. “Hey! Let go of them!”

Chris pulls back, allowing the neck wound to spurt warm blood onto the vampire and his clothes. The human who interfered now panics, eyes wide as it takes in the view and gasping like a fish out of water. The second they bolt, Chris is on them. He moves faster and wraps himself like a snake securing its prey. Not even a scream escapes before his fangs sink into any inch of exposed skin. More delicious blood floods his mouth as he drags the human deeper into the alleyway.

Three humans end up dying tonight. Chris is careful with the third. He needs an exchange of clothes if he wishes to walk among the people without suspicion. However, the surplus of blood coursing through his system is a lot to process. His body fights to adjust, and he knows what he needs to do.

You are a needle in a haystack that is London.

He needs to focus and find you.

His love, his beautiful princess, and his wife. He can’t go home until he finds where you live. Deep down, the pull is there. He can feel it tonight. It’s the same call that brought him to London. The invisible thread that connects you is finally visible.

A spin on his heel, and then the vampire runs.

It’s not a long journey. He was right about your residence being close to Hyunjin’s work. Chris knows it’s a risk to come here. Dawn arrives early, increasing the likelihood of being spotted, but he can’t resist your allure.

The intent was to go to slumber after he fed.

Now here he stands outside your residence, staring at the open window on the second floor as if it taunts him. The half-drawn curtains are shifting like waves as the light breeze hits. Even from here, he can smell the familiar perfume you wore earlier today. It’s comforting and making it harder for him to fight his will. He will slip in just to make sure you are sleeping well, and then he will leave. That way he appeases his desires while managing his ongoing battle of restraint.

Except for the moon shining through the window, the bedroom is completely dark. Chris stands to the side, hidden by the curtains, to assess the bedroom. The air was thick with the hush of sleep, broken only by the rhythmic breathing from Hyunjin. He lies sprawled beside you, oblivious to the threat of the vampire’s presence.

This was perfect. Chris moves like a ghost, silently coming closer without a creak or groan from the floorboards below his feet. His predatory, razor-sharp eyes instantly focused on the bed where you were lying. Your cheeks are slightly flushed, and your chest rises and falls in erratic waves. Chris’ lips curl up into a knowing smirk as he approaches your side of the bed. Even from here, he could sense the heat radiating from you, the subtle scent of your arousal mingling with the florals of your sheets. Leaning closer, he inhales deeply, his gaze tracing the way your body betrays your secret fantasies. Hyunjin still snores softly, unmoving, lost to his exhaustion. The vampire sinks to his knees and positions himself near your face. His icy fingers hovered inches from your warm skin. Your eyes move behind your lids, your lips parting in another hushed gasp from the dream. His voice comes out a gentle whisper that he lets seep into your subconscious. “My beautiful bride, what are you dreaming about so passionately? And why is it not me?” His fingers curl around the edge of the blanket and ever so softly pull the bedding down to your knees, revealing the cotton nightgown you wear. The fabric has gone sheer over the years, showing off the way your body shivers with the cold air against your flushed skin. Your thighs press tightly together, almost in an attempt to alleviate an ache between them. His eyes continue to scan back up, watching the way your nipples harden to little buds, almost begging for his mouth. “Tell me, what pleasures consume you?”

You stir slightly, brows furrowing as if his words tugged at the edges of your sleep. Mercifully, you didn’t wake. Chris’ eyes gleam with dark intent. Just the details. He needs to know the details, and then he will leave. Right through the window he came in, and then he could sneak back underground, where he could plan his next move. He extended his will, tapping into his powers, weaving himself into the very fabric of your dream. The barriers of your subconscious didn’t fight, letting him slip past like a fog slowly moving in around you. There, right in front of him, was the same bedroom. This time, lit by several candles. You lie where you are now, only with parted thighs and the same nightgown bunched at your hips. A scowl finds its way onto the vampire’s face. It’s Hyunjin who is here as well in this dream. He rests between your legs, hands roaming over your soft thighs. There is a smile plastered on his face before shifting lower to press a kiss to your pussy. His tongue slips out a second later, lapping greedily at your slick folds. Your body arches, fingers tangling in his long black locks to keep him in place. He groans against your pussy, bringing his lips up to your clit to suck, earning him moans that only echo in your mind.

Back in the waking world, your legs shifted again, this time more desperately. A soft whimper escaped your lips. A sharp pain jabs Chris in the stomach; he couldn’t watch this scene any longer. He couldn’t let you succumb to this siren’s call. Hyunjin was nothing and certainly not your lover. He would have to remind you of how things were. The pleasure he brought you outmatched any man. In your dream, the scene shifts. Hyunjin’s form blurs at the edges as Chris lets his influence take hold. You feel an icy hand turn your face to the left. It’s not Hyunjin in your line of sight; this time it’s Chris. His gaze is hypnotic, beckoning your attention. You can’t pull away or resist; only watch as he leans closer to connect his lips with yours. It’s a demanding kiss; his tongue slips past your lips to invade your mouth. It’s so possessive, forcing you to taste the lingering iron on his tongue from his victims tonight. This isn’t right, yet you still melt into the kiss despite the confusion running through your thoughts.

“You should be dreaming of me,” Chris commands in your mind. “I am the only one who can fulfill your deepest cravings.”

The bedroom shifts around you, changing to an entirely different place. Chris reshapes the dream into the room he used to share with you back home. The sheets are different, as is the plushness of the mattress, and even the candlelight changes to the gigantic fireplace in the room. Hyunjin has faded completely now, replaced by Chris’ figure. Broad shoulders and a pale, sculpted chest loom over you. Chris takes his time, plush lips placing soft kisses along one of your collarbones inwards to your sternum. He doesn’t stop, continuing between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach.

Your back arches off the bed when his hands connect to your hips. His palms aren’t as soft as Hyunjin’s. Years of fighting wars have made the skin tougher; it’s not as delicate and holds more scars. The rings on his fingers feel cool against your flushed skin as he trails them down to your thighs to part your legs. Your breathing hitches in the dream as your hips lift instinctively to invite him. He settles between your thighs, not wasting time. His mouth is inches from your pussy. He maintains his eye contact as his tongue runs along the wet slit, savoring the taste for himself. “You taste the same.” He says with a throaty moan. “Do you remember how I’d spend hours here? Right between these thighs. You’d scream so loud. I’d walk past the maids, and every one of them clenched their thighs tight, silently begging to be you.”

You silently shook your head, perhaps to say no or to ask him to stop. However, no words came out of your mouth. Not when you are too distracted by the way he licks across your hole, savoring the wetness that leaks out of you. His muscular arms wrap around your thighs, keeping you from moving away. He wants you closer so he can slip his tongue inside you, his nose brushing against your clit. Faintly, a memory flickers. It’s quick, splicing between your dream and itself. It’s you, with Chris in the same position, but this time your hands are tangled in the mess of brown curls on top of his head, holding him in place as you grind yourself against him. You are in complete control, using him selfishly for your pleasure. You taunt him, demanding he make you come, and he simply moans against you, loving the way he is your servant. The prince himself, the soon-to-be king of this castle you are in. He is reduced to nothing more than a royal’s whore, and he would be pleased to die here.

In the real world, your body mirrored the fantasy. Your thighs clenched tight as wetness soaked through the nightgown and down to the sheets. Chris remained kneeling by your side, his physical form watching with satisfaction as your chest heaved. Your face twisted in the building ecstasy. He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. He whispers, his voice laced with dark amusement. “You might not remember my touch, beloved. But your body doesn’t lie. It knows and craves it even now.”

As your dream peaked, waves of pleasure crashed through you in the vision of his unrelenting mouth. Chris withdrew his influence just enough to let you teeter on the edge. He wanted the echo of his presence to linger in your veins long after the night faded. His teeth ache as he fights the urge to ravish you, have you fully, and come on his cock. It would be effortless; he could take you now, right next to Hyunjin. He wouldn’t stop until all your tension melted away, and you felt spineless.

Though he shall wait. He’s influenced enough tonight. This should tip the odds in his favor. You remembered him. Somewhere deep in that brain lies all of your past life. He just needs to find the right keys to free the memories. His plan is working. Tomorrow he will see you again, and he will awaken you. His one and only love, his stunning bride, will soon be back in his arms.

There is a flourishing market in Whitby. The town is not as bustling as London, though Chris enjoys the lack of chaos. He finds himself people-watching and relishing being in the same space. Even the monster in him is quiet for the time being.

Though when Chris turns the corner, a hint of familiar florals catches his attention. There, at the cafe across the street, sits a face he’s excited to see. He was right about Lucy dragging you to Whitby as well. However, from where he stands, he only notices one cup of tea at the table where you sit. You are alone.

Chris crosses the empty street, a smirk on his face. “I wasn’t expecting a familiar face until tonight.”

You look up from your book, and your face flushes at the sight of him in front of you. Are flashbacks of your dream playing in your mind right now? Are you recalling how vivid it was? How good it felt to have your husband rather than that excuse of a man between your legs. You must be judging by the way you shift to press your thighs together. Chris fights to keep his composure. He has to refrain from speaking about it.

He comments on your lack of greeting. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head while closing your book. “I’m sorry. It’s just warm, and I was lost in my book.”

“It’s quite alright; we all love an adventure.” Chris motions to the empty seat across from you. “May I join you?”

You nod, using the moment to take a sip of your drink to help calm yourself. Chris can hear the way your heart skips a beat. Your gaze never meets his. It’s not fear per se; maybe it’s confusion. There is an unease to your behavior, a subtle way you are shrinking to appear smaller. Perhaps the dreams plus your last interaction are causing this.

Chris speaks to make amends if that is the case. “I’m glad I found you. I wanted to apologize for how I acted in the garden with you. You see, I don’t react well to blood, so I panic even if I don’t need to.”

“Oh,” you say with slight confusion before remembering. “It’s no big deal. I had already forgotten about it. Lucy is the same way, so I understand.”

Then it is the dreams that are causing this battle for you? Is that pure little soul of yours challenged with feeling something for a different man? Chris hopes this is the case. The bond of affection is stronger between two lovers, and that beautiful dream showed off how your body knew him. No, your body longed to be touched so intimately by him after all these years. Now it’s just your mind trying to catch up.

“Christopher, may I ask you an absurd question?”

It’s so curious how the people around him call him with proper titles, but you don’t. Maybe old habits endure a lifetime. Chris offers a small smile. “Go ahead.”

“Do you ever think you are in the wrong lifetime?”

“What do you mean?”

“My whole life has been filled with flashes. Images of a different time. The pull is overwhelming.”

You feel the bond. It’s confirmed and not one-sided. Chris is on the right path, then. He just needs to give you enough to awaken more of your memories. That’s all it would take to bring you back into his arms. He doesn’t have to use force. He can achieve your love how he wants to.

Chris reaches over to place a hand over yours; it’s gentle and cautious to leave enough room for you to pull away. He is being bold here. Especially if Lucy or Hyunjin is nearby and could ruin this moment. You are in such a fragile state of confusion; he needs to try to guide you in the right direction. He speaks calmly. “Perhaps it’s a past life trying to communicate with you. I think you should embrace the visions. Let them tell you the story they’re desperately trying to show you.”

For the first time in this meeting, you make direct eye contact. Chris watches the way your pupils are searching his. Are you searching for lies? Trust? You sit up straighter, still not moving your hand away. “Why did you seek me out? Be honest.”

Chris can never lie to you. He does what you ask. “You look so much like my wife. It’s hard not to be around you. Though I’m trying to be respectful.”

“I’m not your wife.” You mumble.

“Are you convincing me or yourself?”

Silence falls between you guys. The tension is thick, similar to the fog that moves in when a storm comes in. You are fighting the connection, the pull drawing you to him. It could be because of Hyunjin. Chris doesn’t doubt you have true feelings for this man. He is just not who you are intended to be with. It will take time to break you of his charm. Though the vampire is confident in his progress.

Your hand pulls away at the sound of an familiar voice joining the table. “Lord Bahng! You made it to Whitby!”

“Of course, Miss Westenra.” Chris answers, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. “I couldn’t waste your generosity.”

“So you will show up tonight then?”

“I will be in attendance.” Chris rises from his seat to offer it to the human. “Though please sit. I need to take my leave.”

“I’ll grab another chair. You should stay.”

“With sadness, I regretfully decline.” Chris slightly bows. “I was on my way to an appointment with a merchant, and I was simply saying a greeting in passing. I will see both of you beautiful ladies tonight.”

Lucy takes the offered seat, a playful scowl on her face. “You are off the hook for now. Though tonight you will keep us company.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Westenra, you can show off this prince all you wish tonight.” Chris doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes. Still, you stare at your best friend with fondness as she expresses her giddiness. When the time comes to it, separating you will be a challenge. A thought he will sit on as he takes his leave. He hasn’t thought about bringing two women back to the castle. She is your favorite companion; maybe he should.

So many thoughts run through the vampire’s mind.

It’s just a matter of what will he do?

As more guests arrived tonight, you finally escaped the confines of being chained next to Lucy. The woman of the hour was accepting words about her engagement, and it was the perfect opportunity to speak to you alone. Chris found you in the study across the house. It was quiet over here; the music from the party was faint, almost outshined by the cackling of the wood in the fireplace. Your glass of champagne was empty, resting on a table while you stood by a window, observing the grounds. “How exhausting it must be to be the best friend.” Chris said, his voice low, almost amused.

“Lucy has the energy of ten racehorses,” you reply, still focused on the view. “I’m surprised you showed up. You hardly seem the sort for engagement parties.”

“No,” he agreed. “However, I find myself drawn to a certain company.”

You turn then, and there is a dusting of warmth along your cheeks. The alcohol Lucy forced on you appears to be working through your system. Though he wouldn’t lie, Chris hoped his words were the real reason you were flushed.

You didn’t comment on his attempt to flirt. Instead, you redirect. “Forgive me for asking, but I’m curious. What did you buy at the market today?”

A faint smile appeared, more fond than his typical friendly mask he wore in front of the humans. “A memory. Or rather, a piece of one.”

He crossed the room with unhurried ease, pulling out a small case from his jacket and placing it upon the table next to your glass. “There was a song,” he continued, almost absently as he opened it. “My wife was fond of it. It played often in the halls of our home.” Carefully and respectfully, he ran his fingers over the old phonograph cylinder. “I came across it again today. I could not leave it behind.”

“A song?” you asked, quieter but still curious.

“Would you like to hear it?”

You hesitated only a moment. “Yes.”

Chris moved over to the phonograph in the room and carefully inserted the cylinder. The horn crackled faintly as he set it in motion. A melody came out that was hauntingly beautiful. The vampire pivoted to observe your reaction.

“I know this.” You murmur to yourself. Your eyebrows drew together as you pondered. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“Close your eyes,” he whispered. Chris continued to watch you, taking in every flash of recognition. “Do not think. Truly listen.”

There was hesitancy from you. You didn’t trust him. Still, you obeyed. For the first time since he met you in London, he felt a surge of optimism. Would this music be the missing piece? Could this moment be the key that finally unlocks your memories?

The vampire tapped into his powers. He wanted to see what images appeared behind your eyelids. Perhaps he could even supply the memories if it were needed.

You were no longer in the sitting room. Images blurred until the castle manifested in your memory. There were stones beneath your feet, cool and worn smooth by the centuries. The air was richer with a hint of roses that you had picked in the morning. Then there was laughter. It was your laughter, echoing around the castle as you danced to the music. Chris could see you spinning.

Dancing.

He was there, watching from the corner as if you were the only other person in this world. One of his fondest memories. That was the moment when he realized you were his happiness. His entire world was unconsciously swaying to the rhythm, allowing her skirts to glide across the floor. The look of genuine joy on your face made his heart flutter. The next chance that opened, Chris stepped forward to draw you close to him, allowing himself to forget all of his troubles.

The setting shifted. Now a bright sunny day is over your garden. You sat in the middle, fingers weaving flowers into a crown. His voice was quieter there and indulgent as he allowed you to place it upon his head. You looked so satisfied that a king would humor you. Again, the scene changed. This time snow is falling beyond the tall windows. You sat watching the hounds be released in the courtyard. The dogs were bounding through the fresh powder as they played. You laughed again, amused at their innocence. When you turned your head, Chris was beside you; your breath caught in that moment, right before a kiss.

Your eyes flew open, pulling Chris out of your mental vision. He didn’t even realize he crossed the room to you. There was barely any space between you two now. You let out a small gasp in surprise.

“What did you see?” he asked, his voice an urgent whisper. “Did you see the gardens you used to run through?” His gaze searched yours. He needed to hear it from your lips. Just some kind of confirmation that you remember. “How about the rooftop where you would name the stars for me? Or are the hounds playing in the snow because you know how much they love it?”

“I didn’t see anything,” you said quickly, stepping back. The spike in your heart rate betrayed you. “It was just music.”

“Look me in the eye if you’re going to lie.”

You held his gaze. There was a war battling inside you. Lying was never a strong suit for you. This was evident not only in your previous life but also in the current one. Chris received the confirmation he wanted when you finally admitted it. “The garden. I saw the garden.”

A small, triumphant smile threatened to curl his lips up. “What else?”

“I made you a flower crown.” You said, stepping closer to him. “You pretended to hate it.”

“I did not pretend,” he whispered. “I despised it. You were always putting flowers in my hair.”

“You wore it anyway.”

“For you, my beloved wife.”

Silence filled the room, and even though he didn’t require air to breathe, the tension was suffocating. There were eggshells under the vampire’s feet. You were in such a fragile state. The scales were tipping in his favor. You just needed gentle guidance from him. “What else did you see?” Your breath trembled when you spoke. “You kissed me.”

“Think harder on that memory,” Chris suggests. “Did I kiss you?”

“No, I kissed you.”

He waited, curious to see your next move. You stepped forward again; the space between you was gone. Your racing heart was beating against his chest cavity. This was of your own free will. He didn’t compel you. Your hand raised, cupping his cheek with the same gentleness he remembered. He leaned into it before he could stop himself.

Centuries.

Four centuries he waited for this. It wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t God finding another way to hurt him. You were here, alive and well, touching him as if no time had passed. His one true love finally came back to him. He endured so much suffering. All he had to do was make you his again. Surely it would happen; you have now seen the truth.

What he didn’t expect after your hand pulled away was the kiss. You slotted your lips against his with no hesitation. This was a kiss of confidence, not some new discovery. He let you take control as he always did, your tongue slipping past his lips to explore and mingle until you needed air. He only gave you a breath before he was on you. This time, his kiss was aggressive; he could no longer hold himself back. His hands came to your face, steadying you before prodding your lips with his tongue. Similar to him, you gave him permission immediately. A rush of emotions hit him. There would be no way to express everything he went through. He didn’t have the words, but he hoped this kiss explained it. His grief, the pain, and his love over the centuries were bundled up to form hope. Now he was exposed like a wound to you, the only person in the world whom he could be vulnerable to. Then something inside you snapped.

Chris could feel the confusion twisting his face as the sound of your panicked breaths filled the room. You continued to step back, putting more space between you as if it could undo what just occurred. “No,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “No, this isn’t right.”

“Beloved…”

“I love Hyunjin.” You cut him off. Every word came out firm as a shield to protect you. “He is my fiancé, and I am going to marry him.” Chris didn’t move from his spot. He didn’t dare touch you. It would upset you more. You shook your head. “Christopher, you cannot… Whatever this trickery is… These visions. You cannot do this to me.”

His gaze darkened, upset at such an accusation. Through all that concentration on his restraint, he doesn’t hold back his words. “I have done nothing that was not already within you.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it?” he pressed, taking one step forward. “You felt it and you remembered. You kissed me.”

“I made a mistake,” you said sharply, though your voice wavered. “And it won’t happen again.”

Silence settled again as the music from the phonograph died out. Chris’ jaw tightened as frustration blossomed inside the vampire. He never wanted to force you. This damn human was blocking your love. He had waited centuries. He had endured loss, loneliness, and the hollow ache of immortality. And now, as you finally stood before him again, you were slipping through his fingers.

“You are running from the truth,” he mumbled.

“And you are trying to rewrite mine!” You shout back, your voice cracking while tears fall from your eyes. You moved past him, stumbling toward the doorway as if you couldn’t get away fast enough. “Stay away from me, Christopher. Do you hear me? Stay away.”

He didn’t move. For a brief second he saw remorse on your face. Could you see how cruel your words were? The burning of his longing was now sharper, right through his undead heart. Instead of comforting him, you fled before he could say another word. Chris wasn’t sure how much longer this cat-and-mouse chase could go on. Four hundred years weighed heavily on his shoulders. And now, with the sensation of your kiss lingering on his lips, he is being driven to his limit.

Chris remained on the balcony long after you left, trying to settle the war of emotions inside him. He couldn’t return to the party in this state. He would kill everyone in the room. So he waits, as he always has, letting the storm inside him settle. The music from the party still seemed to cling to his ears despite the distance. Partygoers are rowdier now it’s longer into the night. Alcohol continues to be served, filling their bellies with a warmth that soothed all their worries.

From where he stands, his chest aches where his heart once was. These humans are living their lives, joyful and content. No doubt you have probably joined them, hanging off Hyunjin’s arm like a gorgeous jewel he doesn’t deserve. It’s not fair, he thinks to himself. He knows you remember; there was recognition in your eyes. You even kissed him, yet you still fight and deny him. Both of his fists clench where they rest on the railing, nails digging so deep into his palms they draw blood. You won’t even entertain the idea, as if you were too scared that he might be right. What was so horrible in a man’s devotion? To no one’s surprise, Chris hears a racing heartbeat making its way down to him. It’s Hyunjin, based on the shaky breath before he steps further into the study. Of course, Hyunjin is your knight in shiny armor, here to fight for you. Rightfully so, you left with tears running down your cheeks. It’s what any respectful man would do for his fiancée. What a fucking nuisance he’s turning out to be. Hyunjin’s death would destroy you, and Chris would rather not inflict anymore pain on you. No, he wants to bring you back into his arms, where you belong, and give you nothing but happiness to make up for the lost time. Though this human, this human man, is in his way. And Chris is running out of patience. The glass door opens behind him; Chris refuses to acknowledge the human. He must rein in these emotions before something drastic happens. He’s waited four hundred years; a little more time won’t hurt anyone. So he focuses on the city view, taking in the stars and bustling nightlife as if it were his kingdom.

“Lord Bahng,” Hyunjin said, steady but tight. “We need to speak.”

There is a brief pause between them. Then Chris turns slowly, his expression far too composed. Not a hint of anger on his face. “Mr. Hwang,” he replies smoothly. “I wondered how long it would take.”

Hyunjin ignored the tone. “You made my fiancée uncomfortable tonight.”

The vampire’s eyes flicker something dangerous at the mere mention of you. Hyunjin is walking on paper-thin ice, poised to break under even the slightest pressure. The world will engulf him entirely. He doesn’t even know the wolf’s den he’s walked into. This pathetic little bunny, plopping himself in the beast’s mouth.

“You lingered too close,” Hyunjin continued, bottom lip trembling. He’s not one for confrontation. This poor lover is trying to find his backbone. Both of his hands were trembling from the nerves coursing through him. His voice fares no better despite his struggle to appear collected. “The way you spoke to her… she didn’t like it. I’m asking you, respectfully, please stay away from her.”

Tick, tick, tick. The heart rate spiked faster again as the silence stretched between them. Chris can see it beat under his clothes, through his skin. Blood pumping faster and faster, even the best orchestra would struggle to perform with such a beat. It’s deafening on this balcony, completely blocking out the party down the hall. The solution to all his problems is calling out to him; the vampire just needs to make a move. Chris tilts his head slightly, studying Hyunjin. Not as a man studies another in the stakes of a fight, but as a predator measures its prey. He repeats Hyunjin’s words in a question. “Stay away?”

Hyunjin held his ground. “Yes.”

A faint smile curved Chris’ lips, though it did not reach his eyes. His reply comes out softer, a murmur. “How curious? That you would presume to place yourself between us.”

“There is no us,” Hyunjin shot back. “She is not yours.”

There it is, the impressive sound of the ice shattering beneath Hyunjin’s feet. Completely unaware of the danger he’s in. He can’t go back to shore, and no one can help him; he can only try not to drown. Can this human swim? He can’t fight a wolf. Not this pathetic excuse of a man.

The air shifts around them; the clear night sky is no more as clouds move in. Chris can’t stop his powers. His rage is finding an outlet the safest way it can. It’s chaos behind him; he can feel the static from the lightning ready to strike Hyunjin down. Thunder crashes loudly, a strength that shakes the building’s foundation. Chris moves then, not quickly, still maintaining a deliberate grace that makes Hyunjin’s pulse spike again despite himself.

“You speak as though you understand her,” Chris says, his voice low and controlled. A hint of a tremble at the edges. “As though you have earned the right.”

“I care about her,” Hyunjin said. “And I won’t let anyone…”

“I appreciate you looking out for her,” Chris interrupts, the words suddenly sharp, his restraint cracking, “keeping her safe until I found her.”

Confusion finds its way on Hyunjin’s face. He has no time to react more than that, though. Chris was in front of Hyunjin in an instant. The human flinched at such a movement. It was so swift, far too quick for a man. He blinked and felt a strike on his chest, driving him back against the wall. The remaining breath left Hyunjin in a rush as stiff fingers closed around his collar.

“Do you think this gesture is a showing of kindness to me?” Chris hisses, his composure gone now, his emotions raw and furious rising in its place. “To keep her from me? To stand where I have endured four hundred years of longing to be again. Where I have waited...?”

Hyunjin struggled, clawing at Chris’ wrist. He couldn’t free himself. It was impossible. He would need the strength of a hundred men to pry this iron grip apart. Air was struggling to find his lungs. He choked out his words. “She’s not something you can claim!”

Chris’ eyes burned with a wildfire consuming a forest. There was hurt, rage, and something animalistic twisting together. His voice was breaking, shifting to something feral and desperate. A rabid dog ready to kill. “You have touched her life so easily. While I…?”

His words came to a halt. There was a snap in Chris. Hyunjin witnessed it occurred. It wasn’t in a metaphorical sense, but here in real life, in front of him. A thread that had been pulled too tight and was finally breaking. The grip shifted. His face dipped closer, and in the crack of vivid lightning, Hyunjin saw that this person in front of him was no man. He was a creature. Fully elongated fangs peeking past his lips. For a brief, terrible second, Hyunjin saw the rage change to hunger.

“While I have been denied.” Chris finished, barely above a whisper.

The bite was sudden. A sharp, violent, searing pain in Hyunjin’s throat. He had no air left to cry out for help. His body tensed, hands clawing at the creature’s shoulders. The strength holding him there was unyielding. He would die here; he was sure of it. There would be no way to stop the inevitable or to prevent Chris from finding you. Tears burned his lash line as his mind lingered on the cruel image of you dead at his feet, blood staining your clothes and your neck shredded by this monster.

This endless, dreadful moment continued on. The sound of the vampire swallowing his life force was all that remained of the world around them. Hyunjin could feel death coming for him. It was ice cold, starting at his extremities and drifting its way up to where his blood was exiting him.

Then, just as abruptly as he attacked, Chris pulls away. Hyunjin collapses forward, falling to his knees, his breath ragged. One hand clamps onto his neck as if it could stop the remaining blood from leaving him. He doesn’t have much blood left.

Chris stepped away, chest rising and falling. Not from effort, but from something far more erratic. Hyunjin recognized remorse briefly flashing across his face. After that, it vanished. As he spoke, the fangs affected his voice. “After tonight, she is no longer yours. You may believe you are protecting her, but tonight you will be reborn.” His gaze dropped briefly to the mark on Hyunjin’s throat. “I will remake you like God does with his creations. She won’t have you once she sees what I will make you do.”

Hyunjin didn’t answer. He couldn’t. One slow blink, then another. His vision blurred as his mind swam around, lost in the depths of worry. There was no fight when Chris approached him again. No resistance when his mouth was pried open. There was a metallic taste on his tongue flowing down his throat. Hyunjin couldn’t stop it, couldn’t prevent whatever this vampire was planning. All he could do was accept as he mentally prayed for his God to protect you from this evil.

Every vampire Chris makes is tied to him. A dog on a leash. An ant in a colony. One that he can control and use as a tool for his agenda. Hyunjin is no exception; he is a pawn that will be the force that drives you into Chris’ arms. The newborn’s disappearance from the engagement party in fact benefited Chris. A few of the men invited left with Arthur to head down the road to the pub. There was some debate regarding the men’s celebration of the engagement and a woman’s right to gossip. In the sunroom, which was still warm from the setting sun, the women got together. However, Lucy still hasn’t returned with the fresh bottle of champagne she promised.

Chris is perched on the stable’s roof, watching you pass each large window, searching the floors of the house. His eyes flicker up to the bedroom, where Hyunjin and Lucy are. This is a disaster unraveling, and yet Chris can’t find the strength to stop the damage from happening. “Lucy?” Your voice rings out from the top of the third floor. “My gods, have you drunk so much that you have fallen asleep? You have guests here!”

Chris could see your entire demeanor shift as you passed each window as you got closer. You paused at the cracked bedroom door. Your nose scrunched up at the strong copper smell that had a hint of decay beneath it. Your breathing changed as fear crept in. You called for her once more, softer this time. “Lucy?”

The door opened wider. There was no stopping anything now. Right there, in the middle of the room, Lucy lay sprawled across the bed she shared with Arthur. Her pale throat exposed, her golden hair fanning out like silk over the bedding. Her arm hung limp over the side, fingers grazing the floor. She was still as a statue, eyes wide open. Then you could see someone bent over her.

“Hyunjin?” His name spilled out of your lips before you could stop it.

The newborn vampire raised his head slowly, turning to face you. Chris could see the horror on your face as you took in the sight of your fiancé. The lower half of his face was stained red with fresh blood, not quite understanding how to feed cleanly.

Hyunjin smiled, a wide expression of happiness showing off his long, sharp fangs caught in the candlelight. “Darling, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“What…?” Your hand flew to your mouth. “What have you done?”

Hyunjin blinked, as if the question confused him. He glanced down at Lucy, as though noticing her for the first time. He muttered. “Oh, her.”

The newborn didn’t elaborate. Instead, he climbed off the bed, trying to close the distance between you. Your eyes widened seeing more of Lucy’s blood coating the front of his pretty lilac shirt you buttoned for him a handful of hours ago.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice shaking. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I would never harm you,” he said quickly, desperately. “Never you. You must believe that. Everything I’ve done… it’s been for you.”

“This is madness.”

“No, darling, this is a gift. He gave me a gift!” Hyunjin insisted, taking another step forward. “I will share it with you. We’ll all be together. You will never leave me. We’ll never be parted again.”

“Who did this to you?”

“Lord Bahng. Oh darling, it’s such a wonderful feeling.” Hyunjin let his eyes flutter shut before smiling wide. “I can hear so much. The way your heart is strong, calling out to me.”

“This isn’t right!” You say with a hand raised to keep him from moving closer. The newborn obeys. Not your wish, but Chris’ command of maintaining a certain distance. However, you don’t know this. You couldn’t even if you asked. You are still trying to process the sight of Lucy, let alone the words leaving your fiancé's mouth. There is a hurt in your voice. “What do you mean it’s wonderful? You are killing her.”

“Darling, you just don’t understand.”

“Have you been killing those poor people in the streets?” You ask, stumbling back. Your back hits the doorjamb, though the pain doesn’t register through the shock. “Then coming and lying next to me as if you were not a damn murderer?”

Hyunjin’s mouth parts to answer, though no words come out. Chris tightens his fist, causing the newborn’s throat to stop producing any noise. Hyunjin is a perfect puppet following commands. The lack of an answer drives your fear higher, and this is what he wants. Be afraid of Hyunjin. Run, run as far away from this creature as you can. Then come seek out the one you want answers from.

Chris takes his leave only when he sees you bolt through the house for help. Hyunjin doesn’t move, still rooted in place with Lucy. What happens to the solicitor now doesn’t matter. Not when the purpose of his existence is fulfilled.

How peculiar, though, that you don’t run straight to staff in the house. Hell, you don’t even run down the street to Arthur. No, Chris can hear your desperate sprinting behind him, heading straight for him. The corners of his lips threaten to curl up as satisfaction courses through him.

Soon.

A part of Chris weighs heavily on the consequences of his actions. You drew a line in the sand, and he crossed it to release true horror. Now, looking back, he should have taken you. If not, when you left the restaurant, then the night when he stood in your apartment. He had the perfect opportunity. It would have been easy to grab you, compel you to behave, and then steal you away. He could be halfway across the Black Sea by now.

Though he is a selfish creature. Not everyone has the chance to have their soulmate fall for them a second time. His plan was working. Just another little push and you would have been his. If only he could have handled the anger Hyunjin prodded out of him.

Hyunjin’s transformation was surprising the city. Every news source was covering it, and the police had already tied him to the nine other deaths throughout the city. It was almost too easy for Chris to get away with his actions. He would be able to take you away quietly without a spotlight on him. He didn’t even need to find you. You came to him. Chris doesn’t move from where he sits, eyes trained on the door. Not even a second later, the hinges in the old oak door creak when it opens, and you slip through the opening. Your heartbeat pounds from an elevated heart rate. Chris assumes, with the way you struggle to calm your breathing, you ran all the way here. In the middle of the night, no less. “Why did I know you were here?” You say, stopping just shy of the desk. “I’ve never even visited this far south before.”

“Because your soul is bound to mine.” “I don’t believe you.”

The vampire sits up straighter, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Why are you still fighting the impossible? You felt our connection when you kissed me.” “No, I…”

“You did!” Chris presses on, rising from his seat. “So willingly to kiss me too. And not out of fear.”

“That’s not true!”

His head tilts to the side, gaze holding yours. “Then why does it linger? Why do you dream of it? If not because you were made for me?”

Your lack of a response betrays you. Despite Lucy’s death being fresh in your mind, you still focus on the flashbacks. Chris tapped in but refused to influence. He wanted you to experience everything, from the fragments of your time together to the feelings that blossomed in your past life. Your dreams this last week did more work than Chris could have wished for. Now even though you are awake now, the strange, aching familiarity is back, and you can’t explain it away.

“It is waking,” Chris says more to himself than you. “Piece by piece. Just as I knew it would.”

“What is?”

“Who you were,” he said simply, now sauntering around the side of the desk to close the distance between you. “Before this small, borrowed life. Before time buried you away from me.”

“No!” You shook your head, backing away. Again, it was a cat-and-mouse game; you wanted to keep him an arm’s length away. “No, you don’t get to twist this into some fantasy to excuse what you’ve done.”

“Excuse?” he repeated, somewhat amused. “I have no need to excuse myself.”

Your anger flared again at the smirk that appeared on his face. “Then answer me this question: if you love me, if any of these feelings are real, then why would you hurt me like this?”

Those words made him pause. Not out of guilt. He does not feel guilt for his actions. Not for you or the casualty of Lucy. Certainly not for what he did to Hyunjin. He took the moment to consider how he wanted to respond. There is a piece of this puzzle that he hid from you. When he mentally agreed to not hurt you, the plan was to protect you the best he could. However, he broke that promise last night. Yes, because he lost control and will make up for it over as many lifetimes as he needs to. Though, how far would he go with this hurt he brings you? Should he reveal everything he learned during his time in London? He could either protect your image of Hyunjin or he could shatter it.

“Hurt you,” he whispered. “Or reveal the truth?”

Chris walked back to the desk. He reached for a leather-bound sketchbook he found the night he entered your apartment. He had no plan on snooping through Hyunjin’s belongings. Though seeing how much effort Hyunjin went to hide it only made him curious. He was unaware of how damning it would be. Now Chris extends his hand out to you, offering you to take it.

Cautiously, you walk up, expecting some sort of trap. Chris motions for you to continue, a scowl etched on his face. He can no longer look you in the eye. The plan was to keep the sketchbook as evidence to incriminate Hyunjin. There was no reason for you to ever see it.

Your hand reaches for the lacing of the sketchbook, slowly unknotting the loose leather straps. Every so carefully, you peel back the cover, revealing Hyunjin’s name and date inscribed in his handwriting. Then there are the pages of art that follow. Chris bites his tongue when he hears your breath catch. Soft sobbing follows with each page turn. He was surprised when he scanned through. Every single page held different pieces of Lucy. It started out so harmlessly, so innocently. A few of the sketches were of her face, showcasing different expressions. Then Hyunjin’s restraint slipped, leading to riskier posed drawings with less clothing. The final few pages of the drawings were of her body, completely bare, in the middle of numerous sexual acts. These were fantasies of a man in love, and not with you. The vampire finally turns his gaze to you when you reach the end. A folded piece of paper rests on the final drawing. With shaky fingers, you examine the letter. There, in Lucy’s handwriting, was something never spoken to you. Lucy was refusing Hyunjin’s advances, stating she was in love with Arthur and how dare he risk losing you. You were a prize to be earned, and he’s lucky she didn’t reveal the truth.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Chris says, taking slow steps toward you. “You were never his. Not in the way you imagined.”

“A second choice,” you say softly, yet there is bitterness in your words. “No doubt so he could stay close to her.”

Tears continue to run down your cheeks. Your fingers tremble while folding the letter back up and closing the sketchbook. The news is a lot to take in, Chris knows, but now it’s all in the open. Perhaps this letter seals the deal for you. Hyunjin is now a monster that matches the one inside of him.

“Hyunjin,” Chris spoke up, almost idly, as though discussing something trivial. “He was always weaker than you believed. I gave him the fate he deserved.”

“And Lucy?” Chris watches your jaw tighten. Anger radiates off you with the heat of the sun.

Lucy was nothing more than a casualty. A consequence of Hyunjin's. Lucy was mortal, and mortals can break. Did he expect Hyunjin to drain her dry? Yes, though he doesn’t have to reveal that to you.

“You have lost everything tonight,” Chris says while reaching for the sketchbook. He tosses it to the side so he can grasp your trembling hands. The touch is gentle, but his words are not. “The man you trusted has become something else. Your friend stands at the edge of death, and yet, instead of getting her help, you came to me.”

“For answers.”

“For me,” Chris corrects. Your teary eyes meet his, and the fight you mustered up is a crumbling sandcastle. He runs his thumbs over your knuckles as a form of comfort. It used to work when you were nervous. Hopefully, it helps you now. If not, then maybe his offer will. “My beautiful bride, I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. If you would allow me, I can show you the memories plaguing you are real.”

“Christopher…”

His chest aches at how fragile your voice sounds. He needs to do something to help you. “Let me awaken you. It’ll take the pain away.” Gears are shifting in your head. What other choice do you have? Your best friend is dead, and the man you loved is a monster who killed her. Now this magnetic force bringing you to Chris is too powerful to fight anymore. Cave, and accept peace.

This will be your decision.

Fresh tears well up along your lash line. “Do you promise to make all the pain go away?”

“I have never lied to you. Not in your last life nor this one.”

Chris pulls on your hands to draw you closer. You don’t resist, not even when he encourages you to place your hands on his clothed chest. One hand finds your chin, tilting your head to the side. There is such beauty in your submission. It’s a blind trust being given to him. It’s almost reminiscent of a person’s faith. You are putty in his hold. Now he gets to play God and create you in his image. You will be reborn with the same gift of immortality. Chris had hundreds of dreams about turning you, and now the grand moment is upon him.

Using his other hand, he brushes your hair away to expose the expanse of your neck. Your pulse pounds under the skin, calling out to him. The vampire leans down to where the pulse strikes strongest. There is a faint hint of floral perfume still lingering on your skin. It almost reminds him of summers back home. Soon, Chris thinks to himself. He can bring you home once he turns you.

He’s gentle when piercing the skin; he’s not here to feed or to kill. He needs to drain enough to allow his blood to take over your bloodstream and begin your transformation. Though every one of your soft whimpers right in his ear causes his dick to twitch in interest. Now isn’t the time to get riled up, but he won’t forget how beautiful of a sound it is.

Chris retracts his fangs when he feels you grow limp in his hold. Your heartbeat has slowed as you dance on a fragile edge of consciousness. While adjusting his hold on you, he brings a wrist to his mouth. He bites deep into his flesh to create a wound that won’t heal right away. When he’s satisfied, he brings the welling-up blood to your lips. “Drink, beloved. Your pain is almost over.”

There is no resistance. He lets the blood spill past your lips and into your system. Gradually your strength returns with greed. The vampire’s blood is addictive as it works through your body. The clingy hands gripping his shirt move to his wrist to keep him against your lips. Your blunt human teeth dig into his wounds, trying to urge more blood out. Chris can’t help his satisfied smile. He’s proud of your eagerness, and he will give you as much as your heart desires.

With you being sired to him, he can alter your human memories. He will remove the pain of Lucy. He will change your harsh reality of Hyunjin’s fate. A peace offering for what you endured tonight because he couldn’t control his anger. You will leave this country thinking the two are alive and well. The truth will never reach you. By the time you are fully transformed, the only two thoughts will be your hunger for fresh blood and your maker.

How things should be.

For the first time in centuries, the castle is a home again. The grand chamber is growing warmer with the wood that burns in the fireplace. Chris takes his time lighting the candles throughout the room. Shadows dance across the stone walls as the flames flicker. You sway in the middle of the room, your eyes shut, lost in the haze of the playing music.

Your voice comes from the middle of the room; a hint of annoyance is present. “Can I finally have my king?”

Chris keeps his back to you, shaking the match in his hand to extinguish the flame. “Forgive me for wanting you to be comfortable. I thought you loved romance.”

“And I’m waiting to experience that so-called love.”

“Oh beloved, I’m about to worship you.” He answers, spinning on his heel to face you. He can’t stop the smirk from forming on his lips as the frustration grows within you. To you, he wasn’t going fast enough. He could have used his powers and lit the candles in one flick. Perhaps that’s where he is selfish. After all this time, he wants to take this moment to appreciate you being back with him. With the match discarded, Chris saunters over to you. There is no heartbeat pounding in your chest, yet the way your body tenses speaks volumes. The anticipation is consuming you. He has barely touched on the journey home. Only safe, comforting touches of reassurance. It was a challenge for him, though he didn’t want to overwhelm you. You were already processing plenty of information when he awakened your memories by gifting you immortality. You might as well have a new body with your heightened senses. It seemed unjust to not give you an adjustment period. Chris reaches for the laces on the front of your gown. His fingers delicately worked to pull each free one by one. The only noise in the room was the fabric rustling as he guided your dress off your shoulders. You shivered, either from the cool air in the room or in excitement; Chris isn’t sure. He murmurs to himself when letting the dress pool at your feet. “My bride, more beautiful than ever.”

The thin slip you wore underneath is sheer, leaving little to the imagination as his gaze roams your body. You were created precisely as you were in your previous existence. The freckles on your shoulders, the curve of your breasts, the dip in your waist, and the soft mound between your thighs were all the same. He stepped closer, his lips brushing your forehead in a feather-light kiss before trailing down to capture your mouth. You melted into him, savoring the full, velvety press of those lips you adored, the kiss deepening as his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours.

With a gentle push, he guided you backward toward the massive four-poster bed. The satin midnight-black linens were the perfect backdrop for your body. His hands found the hem of your slip, lifting it slowly over your head, exposing your naked form to the air of the castle. Your nipples hardened instantly from the lingering chill and his gaze, making them peak into tight buds. Chris couldn’t fight his desire any longer. He nearly tore the fabric of his shirt when he shed it off, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. His trousers followed; his cock, already thickening, stood proud against his thigh.

Finally, free from all clothing, he lowered you onto the bed. The mattress yielded softly beneath you as you lay back. Your eyes never left his, watching how he knelt between your legs, his hands sliding up the sides of your body to cup your breasts. His thumbs circled your nipples, teasing the buds until your back arched and a gasp escaped your lips. The touch was surely fire and silk, with your vampire senses turning each flick and pinch into waves of pleasure that bordered on overwhelming.

Chris may as well be having you for the first time again. Four hundred years ago you rested in this bed a virgin for him to adore, and he gets to do it again. How can he not milk this opportunity? It’s been years since he’s had you beneath him. His cock throbs painfully between his legs, but he still fights self-restraint. There is a correct way to go about this all, and you will experience it.

Leaning down, Chris takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, just to test your sensitivity. Your fingers thread into his dark curls, pulling him closer as he lavishes attention on your breasts. He alternates between sucking, licking, and nipping with just enough pressure to make you moan. Then he switches to the other, giving it the same devoted treatment, his plush lips sealing around the supple flesh until your body is trembling.

His eyes met yours again as he trails kisses down your soft stomach. Your thighs part wider around him, allowing his broad frame to settle between them. You bit your bottom lip as he lowered his head. If he were cruel, he would force you to speak about all that you wanted. Drive that tension to a new height. Instead, he stayed merciful this time, allowing his lips to brush against an inner thigh. He trails kisses down the skin towards the slick folds of your pussy. You were already dripping for him. He could smell your arousal the second you rose for the night. You had wanted him then and there when the coffin opened, and Chris almost caved. He knew it was better to take you here after you were fed and settled in this bed.

You cried out when his tongue dragged between your folds to tease your clit. That remaining self-restraint shattered with the taste of you. These pent-up emotions inside him were a different hunger than what he was used to. He eagerly teased your clit to see if you still liked what you did in your past life. Your hips bucked when his lips sealed to suck on your clit. Every jolt of pleasure appeared to be a powerful ocean wave crashing against the rocks in the way you squirmed. Those new senses amplified every lap and suck from him, intensifying the pressure in your core. It wouldn’t take much from him to send you over the edge.

He needed to; he was craving it.

The only sound he wanted to hear was your screams of pleasure bouncing off the walls. He maintained his gaze, his dark eyes burning with his devotion as he worked one finger inside you. Then eventually he progressed to two, curling to stroke that spot he knew so well from before.

“Oh, Christopher,” you whispered, your voice breaking as climax neared. He hummed against you, and the vibration pushed you over the edge. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, juices flooding his mouth as you came, shuddering beneath him.

Chris rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock was now fully erect, and the tip was glistening. He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock along your soaked slit. He waited until your eyes locked once more. Only then did he push slowly, inch by inch, until you were filled completely.

“You were made only for me, beloved,” Chris groans out. “Can you feel how perfect we are?”

“Yes,” you gasped at the stretch, the walls of your pussy clinging to him, not wanting him to move. He couldn’t fight the confidence coursing through him at your words about feeling every ridge and vein lining him. “I feel all of you… so deeply.”

Deliciously delirious is what he used to think when you were under him, lost in the throes of pleasure. He could drive any thoughts from your mind. All that existed to you was him. Tonight would be no exception.

Chris began to thrust, gentle at first, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper. Both of your hands reached for his face, bringing him closer to you. He followed, adjusting his stance, resting his arms by your head. Whatever you craved, he would give it to you. If you don’t want softness and gentleness right now, then fine. He would unleash his true hunger.

You are his princess, his wife, and his eternal love.

The only one on this earth who gets to rule him completely. He is nothing more than a servant to this body of yours. Nothing brings him more satisfaction than knowing you are indulging your pleasure how you want. Your lips connected once more to his plush lips. There was so much aggression in your kiss. He could barely keep up as his tongue mingled with yours. His pace quickened, the thrusts growing firmer, hitting deep inside you with each stroke. Your hands traveled, finding any expanse of skin to drag your sharp nails into, some sort of grounding, too overwhelmed by how your body accepted every plunge of his cock. It didn’t take much for this exquisite torture to build your pleasure once more.

You broke the kiss to speak against his lips. “I love you, Christopher.”

“Forever, beloved?” He groaned out, his control fraying. There was raw love in your eyes as he fucked you. Words remained trapped in your throat as your entire body tensed. You could only nod as one of his powerful thrusts triggered another orgasm. Chris felt his limbs tremble with the way your pussy tried to milk a release from his cock. Only you could make this powerful creature weak.

“Yes, my king.” You gasped out as the high fizzled out. Chris could see the way the newly formed fangs elongate. Your body couldn’t control all the pleasure inside you. “My love for you will never die.”

Chris curses to himself, forcing himself to continue. Just as his affliction to blood kept him sustained, he must have more of you now. Even though you were real, under him and enjoying him, he couldn’t stop himself. You two would spend lifetimes together, but in this moment he craved making up for the time apart.

What a beautiful goddess you are, he thinks to himself. God couldn’t take you from him now. Not with the gift of immortality he gave you. He still wouldn’t forgive God. No, you are the one mortal sin he will never repent for.

+++++++++ ©︎Abiaswreck | Do not copy, repost, or translate | As always, reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to comment, reblog with feedback, or send me an ask. I’d love to hear from you! Enjoyed what you read? Consider buying me a Ko-fi to show appreciation. Every donation helps with my medical costs.

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